


Like Nobody's Watching

by misaffection



Category: Primeval
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 16:51:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misaffection/pseuds/misaffection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragged to an Irish pub, James is content to sit back and watch... until Alex takes action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Nobody's Watching

**Author's Note:**

> This is more _Past Imperfect_ AU-ness. Cutter isn't dead and Jenny's not left the ARC.

James Lester still isn’t entirely sure how he’s ended up here. He doesn’t do bars, especially not Irish-themed ones, but somewhere between Cutter making the suggestion and everyone else diving on it, he’s found himself dragged in.

The reason is some ten foot away, her blond hair loose and her red lips laughing as Abby spins her. Jenny joins in, their feet in time with the beat of the live band. They seem to be enjoying themselves. He huffs and sips at his drink. At least the place serves decent beer.

Abby abandons Alex to drag a reluctant Emily to the dance floor. The poor woman blushes, but the others laugh and show her the steps and soon enough her embarrassment is lost to the rhythm. James shakes his head and looks at Cutter.

“Was this really such a good idea?”

The professor chuckles. “After everything we’ve gone through? I think so. It’ll do them good to let their hair down.” Cutter tilts his head. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you loosened up, Lester.”

“I am loose enough, thank you.”

Connor is waylaid on his way back to the table. He grins and puts one arm around Abby’s waist, the other tight around his bottle. James watches them, then swallows a mouthful of beer in an attempt to relieve the odd pang in his chest.

Jess drags Becker to the floor and that seems to be a signal. Matt joins Emily and cutter goes to Jenny, leaving James on his own. He plays with a beer mat, pretending not to see the look Alexis is giving him. Not that she leaves it at that. Fake leather squeaks as she plonks down next to him.

“Not in a million years,” he says, forestalling her request.

“You danced me once,” is her reply as she steals his glass and takes a swig. “Come on, James. We saved the world. We ought to celebrate.”

He takes his beer back. “I am doing. That’s what this is for.”

Alexis purses her lips, then leans closer. “If you don’t, then I’ll just have to find someone who will.”

She gets up and starts towards the table of young men who’ve been watching the girls dance with more attention than James had liked. Their expressions light up at her approach. Jealousy shafts through him, sharp and bitter.

“Oh, bugger it,” he mutters and scrambles to his feet. “Alex!”

She turns with a grin. “Lose the jacket.”

Whatever. He shrugs out of it and drops it to the seat, then hastens to her side. The lads glower at him. He lifts an eyebrow and then pulls her close. “That was underhand.”

“It worked.”

“You’re shameless.”

She laughs and winds an arm around his neck. “When it comes to getting what I want, I suppose that I am.” Her lips brush his cheek. “But you kind of need to move your feet, dear. That’s how dancing usually works.”

He looks down. Used to formal dances like tango and the waltz, he’s not sure how this goes. There’s no reason or rhyme. “I’m not sure it does.”

“Feel the music.” She moves closer. That’s not music he can feel. His mouth goes dry. “And dance like nobody’s watching.”

With her so close, the press of her body and the smell of her perfume assaults his senses. He looks into her eyes and it’s easy to forget… everything else. It’s just him and her and the beat that echoes the pulse that thunders through him.

He doesn’t know if he simply sways to the rhythm or if he actually manages to dance. He doesn’t care and, since Alex puts her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh, he thinks it’s safe to assume that she doesn’t either. Maybe getting it right matters less than just doing it. That’s a heady idea that disorders his regulated thoughts.

The music changes to something slower. James has no clue as to whether the others go and sit down or, like him, choose to remain dancing. It just doesn’t matter, not when Alexis is in his arms and smiling at him like that.

“I wouldn’t you know,” she says, throwing him off the beat.

“What?”

“Dance with anyone else.” Her eyes are soft and sure. “Just thought I’d mention that.”

And just like that dancing is not enough. He kisses her like nobody’s watching.


End file.
